Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,
for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom
of tangled sheets and the Sunday salt, ah violin!

When I press summer dusks together, it is
a month of street accordions and sprinklers
laying the dust, small shadows running from me.

It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker,
ciao, Antonio, and the water-cries of children
tearing the rose-coloured sky in streams of paper;
it is dusk in the nostrils and the smell of water
down littered streets that lead you to no water,
and gathering islands and lemons in the mind.

There is the Hudson, like the sea aflame.
I would undress you in the summer heat,
and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.

—"Bleecker Street, Summer," Derek Walcott (via sadpisces98)

(Source: commovente)

We were hungry. We went into a bakery on Grand Avenue and bought bread. Filled the backseat. The whole car smelled of bread. Big sourdough loaves shaped like a fat ass. Fat-ass bread, I said in Spanish, Nalgona bread. Fat – ass bread, he said in Italian, but I forget how he said it.

We ripped big chunks with our hands and ate. The car a pearl blue like my heart that afternoon. Smell of warm bread, bread in both fists, a tango on the tape player loud, loud, loud, because me and him, we’re the only ones who could stand it like that, like if the bandoneón, violin, piano and, guitar, bass, were inside us, like when he wasn’t married, like before his kids, like if all the pain hadn’t passed between us.

Driving down streets with buildings that remind him, he says, how charming the city is. And me remembering when I was little, a cousin’s baby who died from swallowing rat poison in a building like these.

That’s just how it is. And that’s how we drove. With all his new city memories and all my old. Him kissing me between big bites of bread.

—Sandra Cisneros, Bread (via ohhhkat)

Friday: Malala wins #peaceprize; NC recognizes #DayOneNC and marriage for all; and @perfumegenius reminds me of the beauty that still exists in darkness. Happy October!

Friday: Malala wins #peaceprize; NC recognizes #DayOneNC and marriage for all; and @perfumegenius reminds me of the beauty that still exists in darkness. Happy October!

meekinspace:

newyorker:

Sarah Larson talks with the creators of “Serial,” a spinoff of “This American Life” that is currently exploring a conviction with minimal evidence that put a teen-ager in prison for life: 

“Koenig wants to find the truth, whatever it is, more for human reasons than for legal ones. The team started producing “Serial” without knowing how it would end; in fact, they still don’t know. … They’ve figured out plenty, but what is the whole truth? And how do you know when you’ve found it? Can it even be found?”

Photograph courtesy “Serial”

this!!

meekinspace:

newyorker:

Sarah Larson talks with the creators of “Serial,” a spinoff of “This American Life” that is currently exploring a conviction with minimal evidence that put a teen-ager in prison for life: 

“Koenig wants to find the truth, whatever it is, more for human reasons than for legal ones. The team started producing “Serial” without knowing how it would end; in fact, they still don’t know. … They’ve figured out plenty, but what is the whole truth? And how do you know when you’ve found it? Can it even be found?”

Photograph courtesy “Serial”

this!!

softerworld:

A Softer World: 1147
(burning cities melt hearts)
buy this print • support our Patreon
softerworld:

A Softer World: 1157
(true love lite)
buy this print • support our patreon
softerworld:

A Softer World: 1158
(Everybody has skeletons in their closet. I have the gross stuff, too.)
buy this print • support our patreon

softerworld:

A Softer World: 1158

(Everybody has skeletons in their closet. I have the gross stuff, too.)

buy this printsupport our patreon

You have to be kind of intentional about friendships as you get older, because people drift apart so easily with their own lives or families or just physical distance. The friendships you want to maintain, you really have to protect—not just by commenting on their Twitter feed but by actually, like, inviting them over.

—Carrie Brownstein (x)

(Source: officialjeffgoldblum)

For we live with those retrievals from childhood that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are songlike in their refrains and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell.

Michael OndaatjeDivisadero (via softwair)

(Source: literary-life)

fall, autumn is always hard (the hardest), despite its beauty and wildly beating pulse.

Be happy with what you have while working for what you want.

—(via awelltraveledwoman)

(Source: ilaurens)

maggeroo:

wilsonlibunc:

"O Captain! my Captain!" 

Wilson Library staff members take a moment to honor Robin Williams’s life and to remember his time in the Grand Reading Room, during the filming of Patch Adams.  

Image Two: The Filming of the Motion Picture Patch Adams, 2 June 1998, in the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library Photographic Services Photographs #P0087, North Carolina Collection Photographic Archives.

Ug, my heart.